Chapter 2 - Crossing the Pond
"Kimba, lets get going, the movie starts in fifteen!" Ron called impatiently from the car as Kim and Monique walked out the front door and down the path to the driveway.
"Amp down Ron - we'll get there on time," Kim replied, opening the door to the driver's seat and sitting down while Monique hopped in the back-seat of the red van. Ron was already sitting in the front, flicking through radio stations to find some music he liked.
"Uh Kim? Do you remember what going to the movies involves? Snackage, tickets, meeting up with Zita. It's a complex and precise process," Ron pointed out and Rufus -his pet naked mole rat - popped his head out of his owner's shirt pocket to nod in agreement.
"Ron, you realize if you didn't worry so much it'd be a whole lot more enjoyable for all of us," said Kim as turned the car on and then laid a hand on Ron's to stop him from flicking. "And leave the radio where it is, I like that song."
"Yeah, but it's a chick song!" he whined.
"So! I'm driving, thus I pick the tunes," Kim decreed.
"Second that! Pump it girl!" Monique, who also liked the song, called from the back. "And Ron, would you mind if I gave you a little advice?"
"Sure Monique," said Ron, turning around to face her.
"You'd probably have a lot more fun, with Zita and in general, if you'd stop being such a pessimist," she told him.
"A what?" Ron asked; a confused look on his face.
"Pessimist, a person who always believes the worst will happen in a given situation," Kim recited, as if from a dictionary.
"Since when'd you start paying so much attention in English?" he asked her, now puzzled by Kim knowing so much about the language. "I've never seen you study."
"That's because you always sleep or play solitaire on the Kimmunicator in English. I, on the other hand, actually listen because maybe, just maybe, it might turn out to be important."
"Kim, please, it's English - when do you think you're going to get asked to write another essay on Shakespeare, in a job interview?" he asked sardonically. "I think not."
"Yeah, okay then. Ron?"
"Yes?"
"Maybe telling you that thinking too much was a little over the top."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing," Kim replied while putting the car into reverse and backing out of the driveway.
"Uh Kim?" Monique called from the back of the car, "aren't we supposed to have a licensed driver in the car? Or did you get your license when I wasn't looking?"
"Actually, yeah, I did," answered Kim while pulling a card out of her cargo pants pocket and handing it to Monique. "It's a temporary license I can use until I take all the tests - the government decided the whole saving the world thing made it necessary."
"So, let me get this straight - because you save the world on a daily basis the DMV decided to give you a license simply out of the goodness of their hearts?" Monique asked incredulously.
"Yeah, that's pretty much how it went down," Ron replied from the front seat. "But did they give one to me? Oh no! Mr. Sidekick doesn't get to drive, only the famous teen hero."
"Ron? Do you by any chance remember why it was they said you couldn't have a license?" Kim asked him while accelerating out of the neighborhood.
"Because I kept on running into buildings at high speed during my driver's ed course," Ron replied in a singsong voice, reciting the words of the DMV official. "Just because they build the gym too close to the parking lot I have to sit around and watch you drive."
"Are we talking about the big chunk of the gym that was ripped off last month?" questioned Monique, "The one they said was caused by a freak lightning storm?"
"Yeah, that was just so the insurance would pay up," explained Ron.
"And that was you? Going only twenty miles per hour?"
"Forty five," replied Ron sheepishly.
"Thank god they didn't give you a permit," Monique observed, causing Kim to grin slightly as she took a right onto the cross-town highway.
"Alright guys, lets just drop it and try to get to the movie on time, okay?" she called to both of them. "For once we won't have to go running off to catch some villain so I'd like to enjoy this."
Just then a familiar beeping sounded from the backseat, where Kim's backpack was laying. It was the Kimmunicator.
"Talk about speaking too soon," she observed as Monique switched it on and handed it to her.
* * *
"Would you like something to drink ma'am," the flight attendant asked Shego.
"No thanks," she practically growled in reply, dismissing the woman with a wave of her hand.
"Very well ma'am," the attendant said, slightly miffed by Shego's surly attitude. "If you need anything, just let me know."
She got no reply, as Shego buried her nose in the latest issue of Style magazine, this one touting the latest in spring fashions. Feigning interest in the magazine proved too difficult, even for a person as patient as Shego, and soon she placed it in the seat pocket and tried to figure out where Drakken had gone. Having heard that people during this time in her life tried to get back in touch with some sense of lost childhood, she figured Drakken would do the same. The problem with that was Shego knew almost nothing about his past - except for those mind-numbingly boring tales he'd told her of his life during the fourth grade. His home-town was a mystery to her, along with the whereabouts of his friends (if he'd ever had any) or old girlfriends (which were even less likely than him having the former) or family. To give her some idea about where to start looking she'd quickly picked up a book about mid-life crises in the airport, trying as hard as she could to make it look like a gift for someone else. She'd even picked up some corny birthday card, which was summarily tossed in the nearest garbage can.
Once on the plane she opened the book and looked for any information that would help her in finding Drakken. It had proved interesting reading - from about the time she'd sat down to the time when the plane reached its cruising altitude. There was nothing in there about what people did during these times, or what you should do to find them if they leave. It was pretty much two hundred pages of the author patting you on the back and tell you this period of your life is a natural occurrence. Shego could have just bought the birthday card and read that for all the good the book did. So it was up to her to find Drakken, attend the conference and keep about twelve different police forces out of their lair - simple.
Pulling a pad of paper and a pen out of her bag, Shego began to make a list of people to contact once her plane landed to commence her search for Drakken. She knew that telling people outright that Drakken had gone missing would be a grave mistake, and so decided to tell anyone who had asked that Drakken was in Russia purchasing a polyplasma drill - whatever that was. She knew none of her contacts in Europe would ask though - they, unlike the super-villains - were smart enough to realize asking too many questions around Shego was a very bad idea.
For over an hour she wrote on the pad, scratching out ideas and plans, at moments tearing off whole sheets and throwing them onto the floor next to her. It wasn't that she was unable to figure out what to do, but it was that she was constantly revising her plan of action. Nothing could go wrong - Drakken had to be found as soon as possible, before something very bad happened. She wasn't sure what that something was, but she knew it would probably end up as another maximum security prison for her. And plus, he was her paycheck, so that meant until he was found she was paying her own way. But that didn't mean she'd soon be broke. Oh no, Drakken at least paid her handsomely for her assistance on missions, and so she had enough funds to live the high life for over a month. This was of course why she was sitting in Business Class, not back in the sardine can that was the Economy Class section.
"Uh, lady?" the man lying next to her under a blanket asked after Shego woke him with a particularly violent tearing of the paper. "Would you mind not whispering to yourself? It's really annoying and some of us would like to get some sleep here."
"Would you mind shutting up?" Shego asked; her tone icy and threatening. When the man saw her face in the low light of her reading lamp he quickly put the shade back over his eyes and didn't say a word for the rest of the flight.
'So there are some pluses to flying', Shego thought to herself before turning off the light and trying to get some sleep herself.
* * *
"Ron, quit trying to open the peanuts and help me find the plug for this thing," Kim told her friend as he struggled to open the package of airline peanuts they'd been given for a snack.
"Com'on Kim," he protested, "I haven't eaten anything except for a piece of toast this morning. Look at Rufus," he pulled his naked mole rat out of his pocket and set him on the tray table, where Rufus promptly lay back in exhaustion. "The little guy's starving. You wouldn't want him to die, would you Kim?"
"Ohh. so hungry," Rufus mewled from his prone position on the table.
"Ron, cut the theatrics - Rufus is always hungry, and so are you for that matter. Just help me with this and in a few minutes I'll get the flight attendants to bring five bags of peanuts," Kim promised, looking around the crowded Economy Class section for a flight attendant, but after seeing none gave up and returned to her search for the plug.
"Five. mmmm," Rufus purred.
"Alright," Ron conceded, "so what do you need help with?"
"I can't find the socket thingy for the Kimmunicator," explained Kim.
"It's right there, by your elbow," Ron pointed to a small plug in the armrest. Looking at the socket, Kim raised one eyebrow in annoyance.
"Ron, that's the earphone jack."
"What about that one?"
"Ashtray."
"That one?"
"Flight attendant call button."
"And that little do-hickey over there?"
"That's the. I think it's the volume switch, but I could be wrong," Kim admitted.
"I thought you knew what you were doing?" Ron asked, surprised by Kim's hesitation.
"Ron, if I knew what I were doing, why would I bother asking for your help?" she asked in reply.
"Good point," he observed. "What about the socket there, the one with the three prongs." After close examination, Kim decided it was the plug she was looking for and began searching for something in her bag.
"I take it you need to call Wade and the Kimmunicator is out of batteries, eh?" He asked knowingly.
"Nope," Kim replied, her concentration still on the bag.
"And yet this was so important that you kept me from my peanuts?"
"Yep," said Kim, her face brightening as she pulled a CD player from her bag and plugged a cord into the plug, causing Ron's eyes to go as wide as coasters in astonishment.
"You needed my help to plug in a CD player!" He practically yelled. "You kept me from my peanuts for a CD player!"
Kim cringed at his outburst, smiling slightly at his anger over a pack of salted nuts. Just then she saw a flight attendant walking down the aisle, a determined and definitely displeased look on her face as she approached them. Kim decided it would be best to look out the window now, even though all there was to look at was the night sky over a black Atlantic ocean.
"Sir, would you please be quiet," she asked Ron softly yet firmly. "And put your. pet back in its cage."
"Yes m'm," Ron mumbled, his face flushing red with embarrassment as he saw people ahead of him turn around to see what the commotion was all about. As the attendant began to leave Kim called after her in the sweetest voice:
"Ma'am, would it be possible to get another few packages of peanuts?" She asked, her face beaming with innocence.
"Why sure dear," the woman replied, a smile spreading across her face at the sight of such a cute teenager before she went to procure the nuts from the galley.
"There, happy?" Kim asked Ron in a hushed voice, trying not to attract any more unwanted attention.
"Yes," he admitted; an expectant smile on his face at the thought of more peanuts.
"Good," said Kim before she switched on her CD player and put on the earphones.
"Kim," Ron asked. "Why are we going to Europe?"
"What?" Kim said, having not heard Ron's question over her music.
"Why are we going to Europe?" He repeated.
"Didn't you hear what Wade said when we talked in the car?" asked Kim.
"Nah, I was busy flicking the radio," he explained.
"Oh yes, how could I forget," she said, irony dripping from her voice. "And yet you never found anything good, did you?"
"Hey, I'm just picky about my music," he answered.
"Alrighty then. Anyway; we're going to Europe because Wade got a call about a bunch of villains being sighted around London and the authorities figure there's gonna be something big and illegal happening there real soon," Kim elucidated.
"So, were going to play policeman then?" asked Ron.
"That's pretty much it, yup," answered Kim.
"But we get to do some shopping, right?"
"When we're not chasing bad guys? Yeah, we can do some," Kim promised, but upon seeing the 'impulsive buyer with a lot of money' look on Ron's face she knew guaranteeing something like that was a bad idea. "B-but I'm not sure about that."
"Good enough for me! Now, what about those peanuts?"
"Kimba, lets get going, the movie starts in fifteen!" Ron called impatiently from the car as Kim and Monique walked out the front door and down the path to the driveway.
"Amp down Ron - we'll get there on time," Kim replied, opening the door to the driver's seat and sitting down while Monique hopped in the back-seat of the red van. Ron was already sitting in the front, flicking through radio stations to find some music he liked.
"Uh Kim? Do you remember what going to the movies involves? Snackage, tickets, meeting up with Zita. It's a complex and precise process," Ron pointed out and Rufus -his pet naked mole rat - popped his head out of his owner's shirt pocket to nod in agreement.
"Ron, you realize if you didn't worry so much it'd be a whole lot more enjoyable for all of us," said Kim as turned the car on and then laid a hand on Ron's to stop him from flicking. "And leave the radio where it is, I like that song."
"Yeah, but it's a chick song!" he whined.
"So! I'm driving, thus I pick the tunes," Kim decreed.
"Second that! Pump it girl!" Monique, who also liked the song, called from the back. "And Ron, would you mind if I gave you a little advice?"
"Sure Monique," said Ron, turning around to face her.
"You'd probably have a lot more fun, with Zita and in general, if you'd stop being such a pessimist," she told him.
"A what?" Ron asked; a confused look on his face.
"Pessimist, a person who always believes the worst will happen in a given situation," Kim recited, as if from a dictionary.
"Since when'd you start paying so much attention in English?" he asked her, now puzzled by Kim knowing so much about the language. "I've never seen you study."
"That's because you always sleep or play solitaire on the Kimmunicator in English. I, on the other hand, actually listen because maybe, just maybe, it might turn out to be important."
"Kim, please, it's English - when do you think you're going to get asked to write another essay on Shakespeare, in a job interview?" he asked sardonically. "I think not."
"Yeah, okay then. Ron?"
"Yes?"
"Maybe telling you that thinking too much was a little over the top."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing," Kim replied while putting the car into reverse and backing out of the driveway.
"Uh Kim?" Monique called from the back of the car, "aren't we supposed to have a licensed driver in the car? Or did you get your license when I wasn't looking?"
"Actually, yeah, I did," answered Kim while pulling a card out of her cargo pants pocket and handing it to Monique. "It's a temporary license I can use until I take all the tests - the government decided the whole saving the world thing made it necessary."
"So, let me get this straight - because you save the world on a daily basis the DMV decided to give you a license simply out of the goodness of their hearts?" Monique asked incredulously.
"Yeah, that's pretty much how it went down," Ron replied from the front seat. "But did they give one to me? Oh no! Mr. Sidekick doesn't get to drive, only the famous teen hero."
"Ron? Do you by any chance remember why it was they said you couldn't have a license?" Kim asked him while accelerating out of the neighborhood.
"Because I kept on running into buildings at high speed during my driver's ed course," Ron replied in a singsong voice, reciting the words of the DMV official. "Just because they build the gym too close to the parking lot I have to sit around and watch you drive."
"Are we talking about the big chunk of the gym that was ripped off last month?" questioned Monique, "The one they said was caused by a freak lightning storm?"
"Yeah, that was just so the insurance would pay up," explained Ron.
"And that was you? Going only twenty miles per hour?"
"Forty five," replied Ron sheepishly.
"Thank god they didn't give you a permit," Monique observed, causing Kim to grin slightly as she took a right onto the cross-town highway.
"Alright guys, lets just drop it and try to get to the movie on time, okay?" she called to both of them. "For once we won't have to go running off to catch some villain so I'd like to enjoy this."
Just then a familiar beeping sounded from the backseat, where Kim's backpack was laying. It was the Kimmunicator.
"Talk about speaking too soon," she observed as Monique switched it on and handed it to her.
* * *
"Would you like something to drink ma'am," the flight attendant asked Shego.
"No thanks," she practically growled in reply, dismissing the woman with a wave of her hand.
"Very well ma'am," the attendant said, slightly miffed by Shego's surly attitude. "If you need anything, just let me know."
She got no reply, as Shego buried her nose in the latest issue of Style magazine, this one touting the latest in spring fashions. Feigning interest in the magazine proved too difficult, even for a person as patient as Shego, and soon she placed it in the seat pocket and tried to figure out where Drakken had gone. Having heard that people during this time in her life tried to get back in touch with some sense of lost childhood, she figured Drakken would do the same. The problem with that was Shego knew almost nothing about his past - except for those mind-numbingly boring tales he'd told her of his life during the fourth grade. His home-town was a mystery to her, along with the whereabouts of his friends (if he'd ever had any) or old girlfriends (which were even less likely than him having the former) or family. To give her some idea about where to start looking she'd quickly picked up a book about mid-life crises in the airport, trying as hard as she could to make it look like a gift for someone else. She'd even picked up some corny birthday card, which was summarily tossed in the nearest garbage can.
Once on the plane she opened the book and looked for any information that would help her in finding Drakken. It had proved interesting reading - from about the time she'd sat down to the time when the plane reached its cruising altitude. There was nothing in there about what people did during these times, or what you should do to find them if they leave. It was pretty much two hundred pages of the author patting you on the back and tell you this period of your life is a natural occurrence. Shego could have just bought the birthday card and read that for all the good the book did. So it was up to her to find Drakken, attend the conference and keep about twelve different police forces out of their lair - simple.
Pulling a pad of paper and a pen out of her bag, Shego began to make a list of people to contact once her plane landed to commence her search for Drakken. She knew that telling people outright that Drakken had gone missing would be a grave mistake, and so decided to tell anyone who had asked that Drakken was in Russia purchasing a polyplasma drill - whatever that was. She knew none of her contacts in Europe would ask though - they, unlike the super-villains - were smart enough to realize asking too many questions around Shego was a very bad idea.
For over an hour she wrote on the pad, scratching out ideas and plans, at moments tearing off whole sheets and throwing them onto the floor next to her. It wasn't that she was unable to figure out what to do, but it was that she was constantly revising her plan of action. Nothing could go wrong - Drakken had to be found as soon as possible, before something very bad happened. She wasn't sure what that something was, but she knew it would probably end up as another maximum security prison for her. And plus, he was her paycheck, so that meant until he was found she was paying her own way. But that didn't mean she'd soon be broke. Oh no, Drakken at least paid her handsomely for her assistance on missions, and so she had enough funds to live the high life for over a month. This was of course why she was sitting in Business Class, not back in the sardine can that was the Economy Class section.
"Uh, lady?" the man lying next to her under a blanket asked after Shego woke him with a particularly violent tearing of the paper. "Would you mind not whispering to yourself? It's really annoying and some of us would like to get some sleep here."
"Would you mind shutting up?" Shego asked; her tone icy and threatening. When the man saw her face in the low light of her reading lamp he quickly put the shade back over his eyes and didn't say a word for the rest of the flight.
'So there are some pluses to flying', Shego thought to herself before turning off the light and trying to get some sleep herself.
* * *
"Ron, quit trying to open the peanuts and help me find the plug for this thing," Kim told her friend as he struggled to open the package of airline peanuts they'd been given for a snack.
"Com'on Kim," he protested, "I haven't eaten anything except for a piece of toast this morning. Look at Rufus," he pulled his naked mole rat out of his pocket and set him on the tray table, where Rufus promptly lay back in exhaustion. "The little guy's starving. You wouldn't want him to die, would you Kim?"
"Ohh. so hungry," Rufus mewled from his prone position on the table.
"Ron, cut the theatrics - Rufus is always hungry, and so are you for that matter. Just help me with this and in a few minutes I'll get the flight attendants to bring five bags of peanuts," Kim promised, looking around the crowded Economy Class section for a flight attendant, but after seeing none gave up and returned to her search for the plug.
"Five. mmmm," Rufus purred.
"Alright," Ron conceded, "so what do you need help with?"
"I can't find the socket thingy for the Kimmunicator," explained Kim.
"It's right there, by your elbow," Ron pointed to a small plug in the armrest. Looking at the socket, Kim raised one eyebrow in annoyance.
"Ron, that's the earphone jack."
"What about that one?"
"Ashtray."
"That one?"
"Flight attendant call button."
"And that little do-hickey over there?"
"That's the. I think it's the volume switch, but I could be wrong," Kim admitted.
"I thought you knew what you were doing?" Ron asked, surprised by Kim's hesitation.
"Ron, if I knew what I were doing, why would I bother asking for your help?" she asked in reply.
"Good point," he observed. "What about the socket there, the one with the three prongs." After close examination, Kim decided it was the plug she was looking for and began searching for something in her bag.
"I take it you need to call Wade and the Kimmunicator is out of batteries, eh?" He asked knowingly.
"Nope," Kim replied, her concentration still on the bag.
"And yet this was so important that you kept me from my peanuts?"
"Yep," said Kim, her face brightening as she pulled a CD player from her bag and plugged a cord into the plug, causing Ron's eyes to go as wide as coasters in astonishment.
"You needed my help to plug in a CD player!" He practically yelled. "You kept me from my peanuts for a CD player!"
Kim cringed at his outburst, smiling slightly at his anger over a pack of salted nuts. Just then she saw a flight attendant walking down the aisle, a determined and definitely displeased look on her face as she approached them. Kim decided it would be best to look out the window now, even though all there was to look at was the night sky over a black Atlantic ocean.
"Sir, would you please be quiet," she asked Ron softly yet firmly. "And put your. pet back in its cage."
"Yes m'm," Ron mumbled, his face flushing red with embarrassment as he saw people ahead of him turn around to see what the commotion was all about. As the attendant began to leave Kim called after her in the sweetest voice:
"Ma'am, would it be possible to get another few packages of peanuts?" She asked, her face beaming with innocence.
"Why sure dear," the woman replied, a smile spreading across her face at the sight of such a cute teenager before she went to procure the nuts from the galley.
"There, happy?" Kim asked Ron in a hushed voice, trying not to attract any more unwanted attention.
"Yes," he admitted; an expectant smile on his face at the thought of more peanuts.
"Good," said Kim before she switched on her CD player and put on the earphones.
"Kim," Ron asked. "Why are we going to Europe?"
"What?" Kim said, having not heard Ron's question over her music.
"Why are we going to Europe?" He repeated.
"Didn't you hear what Wade said when we talked in the car?" asked Kim.
"Nah, I was busy flicking the radio," he explained.
"Oh yes, how could I forget," she said, irony dripping from her voice. "And yet you never found anything good, did you?"
"Hey, I'm just picky about my music," he answered.
"Alrighty then. Anyway; we're going to Europe because Wade got a call about a bunch of villains being sighted around London and the authorities figure there's gonna be something big and illegal happening there real soon," Kim elucidated.
"So, were going to play policeman then?" asked Ron.
"That's pretty much it, yup," answered Kim.
"But we get to do some shopping, right?"
"When we're not chasing bad guys? Yeah, we can do some," Kim promised, but upon seeing the 'impulsive buyer with a lot of money' look on Ron's face she knew guaranteeing something like that was a bad idea. "B-but I'm not sure about that."
"Good enough for me! Now, what about those peanuts?"